


Happenstance

by sarcasticnotsardonic



Category: Switched at Birth (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-03-15 17:45:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3456158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticnotsardonic/pseuds/sarcasticnotsardonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things are just meant to be, no matter how many times the universe messes with them.</p>
<p>Or Bay is sick and misses the day her biology class tests their blood types, thus delaying the switched at birth reveal. Primarily a Bay/Emmett fic, but other characters are involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. There’s No Escaping Fate

_Ugh,_ Bay thought when she woke up from a restless night’s sleep. Not only was she exhausted, but her head was pounding and her body was shivering while simultaneously emitting heat that had to be well over 100 degrees.

 

_Yeah, so not going into school today_.

 

She threw her covers off and slowly made her way out of her bed, a task that usually took a few seconds if that, but today was taking a lot longer. Her legs appeared to be made out of jelly this morning.

 

Somehow by sheer force and will, she managed to make it down to the kitchen where her mother was being her annoying chipper self.

 

“Morning sweetie.”

 

“Mommm,” Bay groaned, “I think I’m sick.”

 

Kathryn put her coffee cup down and made her way over to her ailing daughter, gently directing her to the island in the kitchen.

 

“Sit. Now, let me see.” She put her hand to Bay’s head and made a “tsk” sound with her teeth. “Yeah, you definitely have a fever. Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?”

 

“No. Just let me die,” Bay said, resting her head on the counter top.

 

“What hurts?”

 

“Everything.”

 

“You feel up to going to the doctor?”

 

“No.”

 

Kathryn stroked Bay’s hair.

 

“I’m guessing it’s probably a twenty-four virus or maybe the flu. If your fever doesn’t go down by tomorrow, though, you’re going to the doctor.”

 

“Mom, I’m fifteen. I don’t need to go to the doctor.”

 

Kathryn stifled a laugh.

 

“Oh, yeah? You’re making that assessment based on your astute knowledge of medicine? Remind me, what was your last grade in biology?”

 

Bay groaned again.

 

“Yeah, now is _really_ the time to lament over the fact that your daughter is clearly not a rocket scientist.”

 

“I’m fine with the daughter I have now.”

 

“I hope so. I’m the only one you’ve got.”

 

“Well, I’d like to keep it that way, so let’s get you back upstairs to bed. I’ll make you some toast and bring you some ginger ale and Tylenol to get the fever down and all you have to do today is sleep.”

 

“Sounds good. I’m sure I won’t be missing anything too critical in school today.”

 

//

 

Buzz

 

She heard her phone vibrate.

 

Buzz 

 

_Not now. Go away, whoever it is._

 

Buzz 

 

_Really?_

 

When she finally looked at her phone, she saw three messages, all from the same person.

 

**Why aren’t you in school today?**

 

**Are you ditching again?**

 

**You need to cut that out, you know.**

 

Of course Liam would think she was ditching. Who the hell did he think he was anyway? Judging her. To be completely honest, she wasn’t even sure why she was still dating him half the time. They fought constantly, they didn’t have the same interests. It’s not like they were having sex, although Bay was positive Liam had told his lame friends they had. Really the only thing they had in common was they both went to Buckner and their parents played golf together.

 

But that was literally all.

 

**I’m sick, but thanks for the concern. - B**

 

A few seconds later, her phone buzzed again.

 

  **I was concerned. That’s why I texted you. - L**

 

  _O_ _h, well, let’s all clap for Liam everybody. Boyfriend of the year._

 

**And to lecture me about the dangers of ditching class. - B**

 

**Why do you have to turn everything into a fight lately, Bay? – L**

 

**I** **t’s just part of my charm I guess. – B**

It was a few minutes before Liam texted her back. It was as though she could literally feel him trying to rein in his anger.

 

**I’m sorry you’re not feeling well. You missed blood tests in biology. – L**

**I did? Oh well, I’ll live. – B**

**It was actually really cool. – L**

Before she could respond though, he texted again.

 

**Gotta go. I’ll talk to you later. – L**

_Yeah, can’t wait._

//

 Thankfully despite the Liam interruption, she was able to fall back to sleep.  When she heard a slight knocking at her door, she sat up and glanced at the clock. It was six. She had actually slept the whole day away.

 

“Honey,” Kathryn said slowly making her way into the darkened bedroom. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Slightly less crappy. Maybe forty-five percent crappy.”

 

“That’s good!” Kathryn sat down on her bed and put her hand on Bay’s forehead.

 

“It doesn’t feel like you have a fever, but I think you should stay home again tomorrow.”

 

“No argument from me here.”

 

“You feel up for some dinner? I made you chicken soup.”

 

“I guess?”

 

 “Okay, well, come down when you’re ready. Unless you need me to help you?”

 

Bay managed a small smile.

 

“I think I can handle it.”

 

“Okay, sweetie.” Kathryn kissed her forehead and closed the bedroom door.

 

Ten minutes later, Bay found herself in the kitchen once again as she had almost twelve hours earlier, this time feeling (thankfully) a whole less like death.

 

“Baby baby Bay,” John’s voice boomed as she sat down at the table. “How are you feeling?”

 

“If you’re feeling contagious, please don’t sit next to me,” Toby chimed in.

 

“Thanks a lot. I’m feeling better. Not like I can run a marathon bet –

 

“Yeah, right. When have you ever been able to run a marathon?”

 

“Shut _up_ , Toby.”

 

“Well, I am glad you’re feeling better, honey.”

 

“Yeah, Dad, me too.” Bay moved her spoon around in her bowl.

 

“I bet Liam was _devastated_ that you weren’t in school,” Toby said while nudging Bay.

  
Bay snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure he wasn’t.”

 

“Things going okay with you two?” John asked with genuine curiosity.

 

“Eh, I wouldn’t plan a wedding anytime soon.”

 

“Considering you’re only fifteen, I’ll take that as a positive.”

 

“We just don’t have anything in common. I want someone who gets me.”

 

“And your “art”?”

 

Bay kicked Toby in his ankle.

 

“Why are you being such an ass tonight? I _am_ an artist. So, yes, someone who gets my art.” Bay got a wistful look her eyes. “Maybe a photographer, someone I could create a piece with; someone who will remember every detail of our relationship and want a forever with me.”

 

“You’ll find that one day, honey, I promise.”

 

_Yeah, I’d probably have a better chance at being switched at birth._

 

“I hope so.”

//

After dinner, Bay returned to her room.

 

**Did you miss me? – B**

**Yeah, of course. – L**

**Maybe this weekend we could go to UMKC? They are having this art festival. It sounds really awesome. – B**

**Every time we go to an art show we get into a fight. – L**

**That’s not true. – B**

**It is. I’m not an artist, Bay. – L**

**So, what? Why can’t you just enjoy this with me? For me? – B**

**Like you enjoy stuff for me? – L**

Bay rolled her eyes.

 

**Forget it. – B**

**We’ll do something fun. I promise. – L**

**Great. – B**

**Bay… - L**

**It’s fine. Really. I’m just still not feeling well. I’m going to go to bed. Talk to you later. – B**

But she didn’t go to bed. Instead she logged onto ArtistConnection.

 

She smiled when she saw the message alert.

 

                        To: BanskyGirl

 

                        From: RipleysNegative

 

                        Hey. Did you hear about the UMKC art festival this Saturday? It sounds really bad ass. If you’re going, maybe we could meet up? I’d really like to meet you.

 

 

Even though they had been chatting for about a month, Bay had no idea who RipleysNegative was. Only that he was a guy who was a photographer who clearly had an amazing imagination. There was a part of Bay who felt guilty, like she was cheating on Liam. Even though she wasn’t. Not physically at least. She had told Ripley about her boyfriend, so at least she wasn’t leading him on. Or she hoped she wasn’t. She hadn’t joined this site to meet anyone romantically. It just kind of happened when she saw Ripley’s photos and started commenting on them. Then he messaged her and that was that. He didn’t have a girlfriend, although he had made reference to trying to get over someone. Bay wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She didn’t want to lead anyone on, but she didn’t want to be anyone’s rebound either.

 

Ripley was a friend really. A connection. A kindred artist spirit.

 

                        To: RipleysNegative

 

                        From: BanskyGirl

           

            Hey. Yeah, I heard about it. I was trying to get my boyfriend to go, but he doesn’t want to. Shock. I still want to though. It would be cool to finally meet the face behind the name.

 

Bay smiled again when she her mailbox had a “1” next to it. How was it possible for this guy to give her butterflies? How wrong was it that her boyfriend didn’t?

 

                        To: BanskyGirl

 

                        From: RipleysNegative

 

            You still with the jock, eh? Secretly, I was hoping you weren’t. He sounds like a loser. Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know him. Or you. But I would like to. Say you’ll come? Damn. I shouldn’t be hitting on a girl with a boyfriend. I know I shouldn’t.

 

Bay didn’t know how to respond to this, to any of this.

 

Her mail notification blinked again.

 

                        To: BanskyGirl

 

                        From: RipleysNegative

 

            Come.

 

It was now or never.

 

                        To: RipleysNegative

 

                        From: BanskyGirl

 

            I will.

 

And she would. 


	2. The Meeting

The sun shone bright into Bay's window, rousing her from sleep. Sitting up in bed, she proceeded to  wipe away the remnants of last night's fitful slumber from her eyes. Today was the day she would meet Ripley. Well, assuming she could locate him. It wasn't as if she had a picture of him. She wished she had. It was funny; the last few days had brought upon an urgency that hadn't existed before. Mere curiosity had become something much more. 

Bay threw her red covers off of her and leapt out of bed. Standing in her bathroom, she gave herself the once over in front of the mirror. Who was this stranger inhabiting her body? She was, if nothing else, giddy. Bay didn't do giddy. Morose she did. Restless? Check. Combative? Quite right. But ecstatic? No. 

Then again, she didn't have much to be giddy about these days. School was boring. Most of the kids there were vapid and superficial. She had less than nothing in common with them. Sure, she was popular by association. The daughter of a former baseball player; the girlfriend of a star football player. But none of those things mattered to Bay. And unfortunately, there was no elation in seeing Liam these days either. In fact, she would describe their relationship lately as cumbersome. They just didn't fit. He wanted her to play a role she hadn't even auditioned for. So of course, she'd relent and rebel and they'd argue. Bay had never been Miss Ray of Sunshine, but she'd never been this bitter, either. It was pure exhaustion. After all, it was tiresome to forever be relegated as the bitch. That wonderful use of misogyny had become Liam's pet name for her. Or at least it seemed to be. He referred to her as one enough. 

But no, she refused to think of Liam today. Today was about new beginnings. 

Deciding on black-laced camisole and a jean skirt, Bay headed downstairs to the kitchen. Wafting from it was a particularly pungent odor, of what she wasn't quite sure. 

"Hi  honey." 

Bay wondered how it was possible to be related to someone with such a constant cheerful demeanor. And with Kathryn it wasn't an act; she was just a naturally jovial person. 

"Hi..." Bay responded, a bit of hesitance in her voice. "Dare I ask what you made?"

Kathryn let out an embarrassed laugh. "Well, I aimed for Frittata, but I think it's more of an omelette?" It was obvious to Bay that Kathryn had no clue either. "Want to try it?" Kathryn offered Bay a plate. 

"Uh, no thanks," Bay responded with a bit of an uneven tone. 

As much as she loved her parents, Bay could never be entirely comfortable around them. She found herself cautious. Always traveling in and out of their lives with modest trepidation. Always wondering if she was the daughter they wanted. There was no doubt about it; Bay was the odd one out here. The black sheep of the otherwise ideal Kennish family. The sore thumb. It was obvious, to everyone. On the occasions her parents would hold cocktail parties and fundraisers, she'd hear them. The comments whispered. The judgments disguised as concern. The gossip.

_Toby is such a good kid, but Bay?_

_I know. It's such a shame she'll never live up to her potential._

Bay pretended it didn't bother her. They were sycophants with no guts. But as hard as she tried, she couldn't deny the hurt she felt. The gnawing in the pit of her stomach. The never ending bright lights exclaiming, "You don't belong here." Because she didn't. She never had. And she accepted that. She stopped searching for reasons. There weren't any. If she kept looking, it would consume her. Acceptance was her only means of sanity. So she wouldn't go to an Ivy League school. So what? Her grades were mediocre at best, but who cared? So she was clumsy and colorful. The world needed color, didn't it?

"So," Kathryn said, bringing Bay out of her musings, "Got any plans for today?" And Bay had an immediate pang of regret for her previous thoughts. Kathryn was great. She was. Eager to connect with her enigmatic daughter. She could have given up at any time, yet, she never did. Instead, she forged ahead, determined. Bay knew she could cut her more slack. She would. 

"Well, there's an art show at UMKC. I was thinking of going to that."

"With Liam?"

"Ha. No, definitely not." 

"Trouble in paradise?"

Yeah, sure. Except that would imply being with Liam was paradise.

"I guess." 

"You want to talk about it?"

And there it was again, the desperation to connect with her daughter. Bay wished she could throw a life raft out to her mom, but she couldn't. The truth was she just did not want to talk about Liam. But she appreciated Kathryn's efforts. She did.

"No, that's okay. Thank you for caring though."

Kathryn gave her daughter an earnest smile. "You're my daughter. Of course I care."

Kathryn reached out for Bay's hand and for the briefest of moments, they connected. What was more, Bay allowed the connection. Allowed the tenderness. It was a rarity that both women wanted to cherish. 

"Aww. How sweet. Are we having a moment?" 

Bay turned around to see Toby mimic barfing. 

"You're such an ass."

When Kathryn wasn't looking, Bay shot him the middle finger.

"Classy."

Kathryn let out an exasperated sigh. "Can you two just...not today?"

"Fine," said both at once.

"A detente has been reached for today," Toby said, offering Bay his hand. Bay took it. In all actuality, Bay and Toby got along great. They weren't siblings who hated each other. Not even close. They just had a way about them, a banter that their parents didn't understand. Which often resulted in a "Can you two just not today?" request. It was a joke that they laughed about when J and K were not around. Their own secret. Toby had Bay's back, and she had his. 

Toby  walked over to the Keurig and poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Want one?" He asked Bay.

"Uh-uh," Kathryn started, giving Toby a pointed look which suggested his offer was unwelcome. "No coffee for her."

"Mom, she's fifteen."

"Almost sixteen in less than a month," Bay clarified. 

Toby shrugged. "You gotta let the bird fly out of the nest at some point."

"Yeah, what he said."

"No!" Kathryn shook her head. "I don't want either of my babies flying out of the nest." She sniffled. "You're both getting so old." She reached her hand out to Toby's chin, a move he soon rebuffed. 

"Okay, nostalgia, table of one."

"And that is our cue to leave." 

Kathryn threw her hands up in the air. "Oh, fine. You're both rotten children anyway."  But she smiled as she said it.

Already halfway out the door, Bay winked at her mother. "And don't we know it."

____________________________________________________

The UMKC campus was abuzz with commotion that Saturday morning. It was a discovery Bay found surprising. She figured most kids would either be sleeping in (if they dormed) or at home (if they commuted). After all, who would be willing to take classes on a Saturday? Well, unless they worked all week that was. 

The art show website indicated the show would be in the student center. Not wanting to wonder around aimlessly, she stopped someone. 

"Excuse me," her voice sounded more raspy than she intended, "where is the student center?"

The person pointed to their left. "You see that building way over yonder? That's it."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

As she walked towards the building, her anxiety seemed to expand by the second. What would Ripley look like? What would he sound like? Would he be attractive? 

_Whoa, way to be shallow, Bay. Perhaps your concern should lie with whether he's a decent person?_

Looks shouldn't matter; her inner Jiminy Cricket scolded. And he was right. Whomever Ripley was, whatever he looked like, she'd give him a chance. After all, personal connections were what it was all about.

_That's better_.

_Okay, enough with the conscience_. 

The bustle in the student center excited Bay. She hadn't expected it to be so busy. Or seem so professional. There were pieces on tables; pieces on the walls. Bay had read  _Siddhartha_  last year, but until now, nirvana was a foreign concept. Here, though, here she was at home. Images of art critics regaling her work in their newspapers danced around in her head. All it would take was for one person to find her work fascinating. Just one.

As she moved around from table to table, she looked for Ripley. She tried to be discreet, but that was a failure from the get go. Bay had plenty wonderful attributes. She was imaginative, generous, but she was also clumsy. In general, she was quite an unbalanced individual. As such, it was no shock when she rammed into some pour soul.

"Oh, my God," she cried, blushing furiously, "I am so sorry." 

The victim of her hit-and-run had red hair, piercing blue eyes...and a camera. Could it be? The infamous Ripley?

"Are you Ripley?"

She stood, awaiting a response. Instead, the boy started to move his hands around. Bay had no idea what was going on.

"I'm sorry. I didn't....get that," she informed him.

Embarrassment crept onto his face.

_Well, this is awkward._

_Shush, you._

He took out his phone and typed away. When he had down what he wanted to say, he showed it to Bay.

**I'm Ripley. And I'm Deaf.**

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Bay felt like a complete and total heel. If she could have kicked herself right there, she would have. In addition to being clumsy, Bay also managed to have foot-in-mouth syndrome. It was a weekly - if not daily- occurrence. Much to her chagrin, of course. Now she found it inevitable that she would undoubtedly slight someone. Not that Bay was some angel; far from it. But more often than not, the slights were unintentional. And the last person she wanted to insult was Ripley. After all, their nightly chats had become the one constant in her life. He had somehow morphed from confidant to could-be soul mate. 

Soul mate? When did Bay become a person who used words like that? That was so far removed from who she was. Yes, she was romantic. But she was also cynical and jaded. Except around Ripley.

Her legs felt jittery. 

_Say something_ , she silently willed of him.

He wrote something out on his phone again.

**It happens more often than you think. Are you Bansky?**

Bay acknowledged his question with a shake of the head.

"Can you read lips?"

He responded with a nod as well.

"I'm Bay."

Type, type, type.

He revealed his phone to her.

"Like in  _Twilight_?"

His brow furrowed.

**You read that crap? I have to say, I had higher expectations.**

From Liam, that would have sounded insulting, but from Emmett, it bordered on flirtatious. Especially when he gave her a wink to go along with his admonishment of her literary taste.

"Sorry. We all have our flaws."

Emmett simpered.

**And aside from crappy literature and douchey football player boyfriends, what are yours**?

Maybe she should have taken offense at Emmett referring to Liam as douchey. But he was right.

"Nope. My only crimes against humanity are reading Stephanie Meyer."

**And douchey football playing boyfriends**.

"That too," she affirmed. 

**Are you liking the show so far?**

"From what I've seen, yeah. It's great. You?"

**Definitely**. 

Bay motioned at the camera Emmett had slung over his shoulder.

"Do you always bring that with you?"

**Of course**. 

Then he patted it for effect.

**It's my baby** , he wrote, accompanied by a satisfied grin. 

Bay found that amusing. Also, it was kind of sweet. He was dedicated to his craft. That was a plus.

Emmett's eyes darted around the room, finally landing on a photograph at the opposite end.

**You want to take a look**?

"Sure."

Together they strolled to the photograph. Bay noticed a sparkle in Emmett’s eye as he observed it.

**That's beautiful**.

And she had to agree, it was.

It was black-and-white. Simple. Two hands intertwined. Nothing else. Did there need to be anything else? Bay didn't think so. 

"I love it."

Emmett looked at her; a question loomed in the air. She felt her face get hot and flushed. 

**Do you want to get out of here?**

_God, yes_. 

"I do."

As they sauntered out of the building, Bay felt overjoyed. She followed him to the parking lot. Shock illuminated her face when they reached his mode of transportation.

"A motorcycle?" She cried. 

Emmett face had become crestfallen.

**Is that a problem?**

"No, not at all," she assured him, thankful he couldn't hear the shakiness in her voice.

Holding out  the spare helmet with one hand, he wrote with the other: **Th** **en hop on**.

Okay, so perhaps getting on a motorcycle with a guy she barely knew was not wisest choice. It could, in fact, turn out to be a colossal mistake. But it was a mistake she was willing to make, for Emmett offered her something tangible. Meanwhile, Liam only offered her the abstract. 

"Let's go."


End file.
